Two minutes later he was watching guard mount, down in the main haQ under the barracks. When the band sounded off with "Till the Suns are cold and the heavens dark-" Matt found himself choking up.
He stopped by the guard office, reluctant to get back to the fussy complexities of mathematics. The new sergeant of the guard was an acquaintance, Master Sergeant Macleod. "Come in, young fellow, and rest yourself. Did you see the guard mount?"
"Thanks. Yes, I did. It's pretty wonderful to see."
"Know what you mean. Been doing it twenty years and I get more of a bang out of it than I did when I was a recruit. How's tricks? They keeping you busy?"
Matt grinned sheepishly. "I'm playing hooky. I should be studying astrogation, but I get so darned sick of it."
"Don't blame you a bit. Figures make my head ache."
Matt found himself telling the older man his troubles. Sergeant Macleod eyed him with sympathetic interest. "See here, Mr. Dodson-you don't like that long-haired stuff. Why don't you chuck it?"
"Huh?"
"You like the space marines, don't you?"
"Why, yes."